[Illustration: Emil Holub
_Frontispiece._]
SEVEN YEARS IN SOUTH AFRICA:
TRAVELS, RESEARCHES, AND HUNTING ADVENTURES,
BETWEEN THE DIAMOND-FIELDS AND THE ZAMBESI (1872–79).
BY
DR. EMIL HOLUB.
_TRANSLATED BY ELLEN E. FREWER._
WITH ABOUT TWO HUNDRED ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
_SECOND EDITION._
London:
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,
CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.
1881.
[_All rights reserved._]
LONDON:
GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS,
ST. JOHN’S SQUARE.
PREFACE.
From the days of my boyhood I had been stirred with the desire to
devote myself in some way to the exploration of Africa, and whenever I
came across the narratives of travellers who had contributed anything
towards the opening up of the dark continent, I only read them to find
that they gave a more definite shape to my longings.
It was in 1872 that an opportunity was afforded me of gratifying my
wish, and I then decided that South Africa should be the field of my
researches. For seven years I applied myself to my undertaking with all
the energy, and with the best resources that, as a solitary individual,
I could command, and was enabled to make the three journeys which are
described in the following pages.
On my third return to the Diamond-fields I was urged by my South
African friends immediately to publish an account of my travels; my
time, however, was so engrossed by my medical practice that I had no
leisure for the purpose, and contented myself with merely sending a few
fragmentary articles to some of the South African newspapers.
But on arriving in London I was again so repeatedly solicited to make
public what I had seen, that, on reaching home, I determined to issue
these volumes containing an account of the leading incidents in my
travelling experiences. To enter into the details of all the scientific
observations that I made would occupy me for at least three years, and
would interfere altogether with my scheme for returning to Africa as
soon as possible, so that I have been satisfied to leave these results
of my labours to be worked out by the co-operation of the men of
science to whom they may be of interest.
I cherish the hope that these volumes may tend to increase the public
interest which is now so powerfully drawn to South Africa, and I trust
that the time is not far distant when I may submit to the public some
further researches relating to “the continent of the future.”
EMIL HOLUB.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
VOYAGE TO THE CAPE--CAPE TOWN--PORT ELIZABETH 1
CHAPTER II.
JOURNEY TO THE DIAMOND FIELDS 24
CHAPTER III.
THE DIAMOND FIELDS.
Ups-and-downs of medical practice--Mode of working
the diggings--The kopjes--Morning markets--My first
baboon-hunt--Preparation for first journey 53
CHAPTER IV.
FROM DUTOITSPAN TO LIKATLONG.
My travelling-companions--Departure from the
Diamond-fields--The Vaal River and valley--Visit to Koranna
village--Structure of Koranna huts--Social condition of
the Korannas--Klipdrift--Distinction between Bechuanas and
Korannas--Interior of a Koranna hut--Fauna of the Vaal
valley--A bad road--A charming glen--Cobras and their
venom--Ring-neck snakes--The mud in the Harts River 93
CHAPTER V.
FROM LIKATLONG TO WONDERFONTEIN.
Batlapin life--Weaver-birds and their nests--A Batlapin
farmstead--Ant-hills--Travelling Batlapins--An
alarming accident--Springbockfontein--Gassibone and
his residence--An untempting dish--On the bank of the
Vaal--Water lizards--Christiana--Bloemhof--Stormy
night--Pastures by the Vaal--Cranes--Dutch
hunters--A sportsman’s Eldorado--Surprised by black
gnus--Guinea-fowl--Klerksdorp--Potchefstroom--The Mooi
River valley--Geological notes--Wonderfontein and its
grottoes--Otters, birds, and snakes 118
CHAPTER VI.
RETURN JOURNEY TO DUTOITSPAN.
Departure from Wonderfontein--Potchefstroom again--A
mistake--Expenses of transport--Rennicke’s Farm--A
concourse of birds--Gildenhuis--A lion-hunt--Hallwater
Farm and Salt-pan--A Batlapin delicacy--Rough
travelling--Hebron--Return to Dutoitspan--The Basutos 182
CHAPTER VII.
FROM DUTOITSPAN TO MUSEMANYANA.
Preparation for second
journey--Travelling-companions--Departure--A
diamond--A lovely evening--Want of water--A
conflagration--Hartebeests--An expensive
draught--Gassibone’s kraal--An adventure with a cobra--A
clamorous crowd--A smithy--The mission-station at
Taung--Maruma--Thorny places--Cheap diamonds--Pelted by
baboons--Reception at Musemanyana 216
CHAPTER VIII.
FROM MUSEMANYANA TO MOSHANENG.
Departure from Musemanyana--The Quagga Flats--Hyæna-hunt
by moonlight--Makalahari horsemanship--Konana--A lion on
the Sitlagole--Animal life on the table-land--Gnu-hunt
at night--A missing comrade--Piles of bones--Hunting a
wild goose--South African spring-time--Molema’s Town--Mr.
Webb and the Mission-house--The chief Molema--Huss
Hill--Neighbourhood of Moshaneng--Illustrious visitors 252
CHAPTER IX.
FROM MOSHANENG TO MOLOPOLOLE.
King Montsua and Christianity--Royal gifts--The Banquaketse
highlands--Signs of tropical vegetation--Hyæna-dogs--Ruins
of Mosilili’s Town--Rock-rabbits--A thari--Molopolole 294
CHAPTER X.
FROM MOLOPOLOLE TO SHOSHONG.
Picturesque situation of Molopolole--Sechele’s
territory--Bakuena architecture--Excursion up the glen--The
missionaries--Kotlas--My reception by Sechele--A young
prince--Environs of Molopolole--Manners and customs of
the Bechuanas--Religious ceremonies--Linyakas--Medical
practice--Amulets--Moloi--The exorcising of
Khame--Rain-doctors--Departure from Molopolole--A painful
march--Want of water--The Barwas and Masarwas--Their
superstition and mode of hunting--New Year’s Day in the
wilderness--Lost in the woods--Saved by a Masarwa--Wild
honey--The Bamangwato highlands--Arrival at Shoshong 312
CHAPTER XI.
FROM SHOSHONG BACK TO THE DIAMOND FIELDS.
Position and importance of Shoshong--Our entry into the
town--Mr. Mackenzie--Visit to Sekhomo--History of the
Bamangwato empire--Family feuds--Sekhomo and his council--A
panic--Manners and customs of the Bechuanas--Circumcision
and the boguera--Departure from Shoshong--The African
francolin--Khame’s saltpan--Elephant tracks--Puff-adders--A
dorn-veldt--A brilliant scene--My serious
illness--Chwene-Chwene--The Dwars mountains--Schweinfurth’s
pass--Brackfontein--Linokana--Thomas Jensen, the
missionary--Baharutse agriculture--Zeerust and the
Marico district--The Hooge-veldt--Quartzite walls at
Klip-port--Parting with my companions--Arrival at Dutoitspan 367
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I.
PAGE
Emil Holub _Frontispiece._
Cape-Town 5
Euphorbia Trees 17
Elephants on the Zondags River 28
Springbock Hunting 33
Antelope Trap 36
The Country near Cradock 37
On the Way to the Diamond-Fields 40
Hotel on the Riet River 49
Square in Dutoitspan 63
Kimberley Kopje in 1871 67
Horse Whims in the Diamond Quarries 68
Kimberley 69
Kimberley Kopje in 1872 70
Kaffir Shepherd 77
Baboon-hunt 88
“Fore-spanning” 95
Koranna Huts in the Valley of the Harts River 96
Korannas 96
Interior of a Koranna Hut 103
Batlapin Boys throwing the Kiri 109
Batlapin 111
Batlapin Agriculture 116
Nests of Weaver-Birds 123
Batlapins on a Journey 126
Accident in the Harts River Valley 129
Batlapins sewing 133
Camp on Bamboes Spruit 147
Return from the Gnu Hunt 155
Startled by a Herd of Black Gnus 156
Night-Camp 168
Funnel-shaped Cavity in Rocks 170
Grotto of Wonderfontein 173
A Bird Colony 190
Lion Hunt in the Maquasi Hills 193
Hallwater Farm 195
Koranna 197
Batlapins returning from Work 201
Easter Sunday in the Vaal River 208
Meeting between Basutos returning from the Diamond
Fields, and others going thither 213
A Moonlight Evening in the Forest 216
The Plains on Fire 225
Hartebeest 228
Head of the Hartebeest (Antilope Caama) 229
Woods at the Foot of the Malau Heights 231
Niger and the Cobra 234
Mobbed for Spirits 236
Caught by Thorns 241
Cheap Diamonds 242
Surprised by Baboons 244
Reception in Musemanyana 249
Musemanyana 251
Barolong Maiden collecting Locusts 253
A Hyæna Hunt 256
A Yochom of the Kalahari chasing a Bless-bock 259
A Barolong Story-teller 262
The Bechuana finds the Remains of his Brother 265
Wild Animals on the Plains 267
Barolongs chasing Zebras 268
Gnu-hunting by Night 270
Deserted Hunting-place of the Barolongs 274
Egyptian-goose on Mimosa-tree 275
Dispensing Drugs in the Open 281
Nest of Weaver-birds 284
Collecting Rain-water 287
A Refreshing Draught 288
Royal Visitors 289
Barolong Women at Moshaneng 297
Hyænas among the Cattle 302
Hunting the Rock-rabbit 306
The African Lynx 309
White-ant Hills 312
King Sechele 318
Rain-doctors 325
Khame’s Magic 335
Pit, the Griqua, discovers Leopard Tracks 342
Native Postmen 346
Masarwas around a Fire 350
Masarwas at Home 352
Mode of Hunting among the Masarwas 353
Preparing the New Year’s Feast in the Forest 355
Succoured by a Masarwa 360
A Bamangwato Boy 368
Aprons worn by Bamangwato Women 369
Bamangwato Huts at Shoshong 372
Kotla at Shoshong 374
Sekhomo and his Council 376
Bamangwato House 378
Court Dress of a Bamangwato 379
Training the Boys 397
Bamangwato Girls Dressed for the Boguera 400
Khame’s Salt-pan 404
Buisport, Rocky Cleft in the Bushveldt 413
Baharutse Drawing Water 415
Chukuru, Chief of the Baharutse 417
Baharutse Village 419
[Illustration:
MAP ILLUSTRATING
D^R. HOLUB’S JOURNEYS
IN
SOUTH AFRICA
1872–1879]
SEVEN YEARS IN SOUTH AFRICA.
CHAPTER I.
VOYAGE TO THE CAPE--CAPE TOWN--PORT ELIZABETH.
However fair and favourable the voyage between Southampton and South
Africa, a thrill of new life, a sudden shaking off of lethargy, alike
physical and mental, ever responds to the crisp, dry announcement of
the captain that the long-looked-for land is actually in sight. As
the time draws near when the cry of “Land” may any moment be expected
from the mast-head, many is the rush that is made from the luxurious
cabin to the deck of the splendid steamer, when with straining eyes
the passengers eagerly scan the distant horizon; ever and again in
their eagerness do they think they descry a mountain summit on the long
line that parts sea and sky; but the mountain proves to be merely the
topmast of some distant vessel, and disappointment is intensified by
the very longing that had prompted the imagination.
But at last there is no mistake. From a bright light bank of feathery
cloud on the south-south-east horizon there is seen a long, blue
streak, which every succeeding minute rises obviously more plainly
above the ocean. That far-off streak is the crown of an imposing rock,
itself a monument of a memorable crisis in the annals of geographical
discovery; it is the crest of Africa’s stony beacon, Table Mountain.
Out of the thirty-six days, from May the 26th to July the 1st, 1872,
that I spent on board the “Briton” on her passage from Southampton
to Cape Town,[1] thirty were stormy. For four whole weeks I suffered
from so severe an attack of dysentery that my strength was utterly
prostrated, and I hardly ventured to entertain a hope that I should
ever reach the shores of South Africa alive. My readers, therefore,
will easily understand how my physical weakness, with its accompanying
mental depression, gave me an ardent longing to feel dry land once
more beneath my feet, especially as that land was the goal to which I
was hastening with the express purpose of there devoting my energies
to scientific research. But almost sinking as I felt myself under my
prolonged sufferings, the tidings that the shore was actually in sight
had no sooner reached my cabin than I was conscious of a new thrill of
life in my veins; and my vigour sensibly revived as I watched until not
only Table Mountain, with the Lion’s Head on one side and the Devil’s
Peak on the other, but also the range of the Twelve Apostles to the
south lay outstretched in all their majesty before my eyes.
Before leaving the “Briton” and setting foot upon African soil, I
may briefly relate an adventure that befell me, and which seemed a
foretaste of the dangers and difficulties with which I was to meet in
South Africa itself. On the 20th of June, after three weeks of such
boisterous weather that it had been scarcely possible for a passenger
to go on deck at all, we found ourselves off St. Helena. By this
time not only had my illness seriously reduced my strength, but the
weaker I became the more oppressive did I feel the confined atmosphere
of my second-class cabin; my means not having sufficed to engage a
first-class berth. On the morning in question I experienced an unusual
difficulty in breathing; the surgeon was himself seriously ill, and
consequently not in a condition to prescribe; accordingly, taking my
own advice, I came to the conclusion that I would put my strength to
the test and crawl on deck, where I might at least get some fresh air.
It was not without much difficulty that I managed to creep as far as
the forecastle, splashed repeatedly on the way by the spray from the
waves that thundered against the bow; still, so delightful was the
relief afforded by the breeze to my lungs, that I was conscious only
of enjoyment, and entertained no apprehension of mischief from the
recurring shower-baths.
But my satisfaction only lasted for a few minutes; I soon became
convinced of the extreme imprudence of getting so thoroughly soaked,
and came to the conclusion that I had better make my way back. While
I was thus contemplating my return, I caught sight of a gigantic wave
towering on towards the ship, and before I could devise any means for
my protection, the vessel, trembling to her very centre, ploughed her
way into the billow, where the entire forecastle was quite submerged.
My fingers instinctively clutched at the trellis-work of the flooring;
but, failing to gain a hold, I was caught up by the retreating flood
and carried overboard. Fortunately the lower cross-bar broke my
fall, so that instead of being dashed out to sea, I slipped almost
perpendicularly down the ship’s side. The massive anchor, emblem of
hope, proved my deliverance. Between one of its arms and the timbers of
the ship I hung suspended, until the boatswain came just in time to my
aid, and rescued me from my perilous position.
[Illustration: CAPE-TOWN.
_Page 5._]
But to return to Table Mountain, the watchtower of Cape Colony. In
few other points of the coast-line of any continent are the mountains
more representative of the form of the inland country than here. At
the foot of the three contiguous mountains, Table Mountain, Devil’s
Peak, and Lion’s Head, and guarded, as it were, by their giant mass,
reposing, as it might well appear, in one of the most secure and
sheltered nooks in the world, lay Cape Town, the scene of my first
landing. It is the metropolis of South Africa, the most populous city
south of the Zambesi, and the second in importance of all the trade
centres in the Anglo-African colonies. Although, perhaps, in actual
beauty of situation it cannot rival Funchal, the capital of Madeira,
which, with its tiers of terraces on its sloping hillside, we had had
the opportunity of admiring in the course of the voyage, yet there is
something about Cape Town which is singularly attractive to the eye of
a stranger; he seems at once to experience an involuntary feeling of
security as he steams slowly along the shores of Table Bay; and as he
gazes on the white buildings (not unfrequently surmounted by slender
towers) which rise above the verdure of the streets and gardens, he
recognizes what must appear a welcome haven of refuge after the stormy
perils of a long sea passage. But appearances here, as often elsewhere,
are somewhat deceptive; and as matter of fact, both the town and the
bay are at some seasons of the year exposed to violent storms, one
consequence of which is that the entire region is filled with frightful
clouds of dust. Even in calm weather, the dust raised by the ordinary
traffic of the place is so dense and annoying that it is scarcely
possible to see a hundred yards ahead; and to escape it as much as
possible people of sufficient means only come into the town to transact
their business, having their residences in the outskirts at the foot of
the adjacent mountains.
This disadvantage is likely to attach to the town for some time to
come; first, because there are no practicable means of arresting the
storms that break in on the south-east from Simon’s Bay; and secondly,
because no measures have yet been taken in hand for paving the streets.
It must be acknowledged, however, that within the last few years,
during Sir Bartle Frere’s administration, the large harbour-works
that have been erected have done much to protect the town from the
ravages of the ocean,--ravages of which the fragments of wreck that
lie scattered along the shores of Table Bay are the silent but
incontestable witnesses.
At the time of my arrival, in 1872, our vessel had to be towed very
cautiously into the harbour. Mail steamers are now despatched to the
colony every week, but at that time they only reached South Africa
about twice a month, and it was therefore no wonder that each vessel,
as it arrived from the mother-country, should be hailed with delight,
and that the signal from the station at the base of the Lion’s Head
should attract a considerable crowd to the shore. There were many who
were expecting relations or friends; there were the postal officials,
with a body of subordinates, waiting to receive the mail; and there
were large numbers of the coloured population, Malays, Kaffirs, and
Hottentots, as well as many representatives of the cross-breeds of
each race, who had come to offer their services as porters. All these
had found their way to the water’s edge, and stood in compact line
crowded against the pier. In a few minutes the steamer lay to, and the
passengers who, after two days, were to go on to Port Elizabeth hurried
on shore to make the most of their time in exploring the town.
At a short distance from the shore, we entered Cape Town by the
fish-market. Here, every day except Sunday, the Malay fishermen display
an immense variety of fish; and lobsters, standing literally in piles,
seem especially to find a ready sale. Any visitor who can steel his
olfactory nerves against the strong odour that pervades the atmosphere
of the place may here find a singularly ample field for ethnographical
and other studies. The Malays, who were introduced into the country
about ten years since, have remained faithful to their habits and
costume. Imported as fishermen, stone-masons, and tailors, they have
continued their own lines of handicraft, whilst they have adopted a new
pursuit adapted to their new home and have become very successful as
horse-breakers.
Passing along, we were interested in noticing the dusky forms of these
men as they busily emptied the contents of their boats into baskets.
They were dressed in voluminous linen shirts and trousers; and their
conical hats of plaited straw, rushes, or bamboo, were made very
large, so as to protect their heads effectually from the sun. Their
physiognomy is flat, and not particularly pleasing, but their eyes,
especially those of the women, are large and bright, and attest their
tropical origin. The women, who wore brilliant handkerchiefs upon their
heads, and the fullest of white skirts over such a number of petticoats
as gave them all the appearance of indulging in crinoline, were
assisting their husbands in their work, laughing with high glee over a
haul which evidently satisfied them, and chattering, sometimes in their
own language and sometimes in Dutch. A black-headed progeny scrambled
about amongst their busy elders, the girls looking like pretty dolls
in their white linen frocks, the boys dressed in short jackets and
trousers, none of them seeming to consider themselves too young to do
their best in helping to lug off the fish to the market.
On leaving the fish-market, we made our way along one of the streets
which lie parallel to each other, and came to the parade, a place
bordered with pines. Inside the town the eye of a stranger is less
struck by the buildings, which for the most part are in the old Dutch
style, than by the traffic which is going on in the streets, where the
mixed breeds predominate. In every corner, in every house, they swarm
in the capacity of porters, drivers, or servants, and Malays, Kaffirs,
and half-breeds are perpetually lying in wait for a job, which, when
found, they are skilful enough in turning to their own advantage.
Much as was done during my seven years’ sojourn in the country to
improve the external appearance and general condition of the town,
this portion of the population seemed never to gain in refinement, and
the sole advance that it appeared to make was in the craftiness and
exorbitance of its demands. Exceptions, however, were occasionally to
be found amongst some of the Malays and half-breeds, who from special
circumstances had had the advantage of a somewhat better education.
Cape Town is the headquarters of the Chief Commissioner for the
British Possessions and Dependencies in South Africa, as well as for
his Council and for the Upper and Lower Houses of Assembly. It is also
the see of an Anglican bishop. The town contains sixteen churches and
chapels, and amongst its population, which is chiefly coloured, are
members of almost every known creed. Amongst the white part of the
community, the Dutch element decidedly preponderates.
At the head of the present Government is a man who has gained the
highest confidence of the colonists, and who is esteemed as the
most liberal-minded and far-seeing governor that England has ever
entrusted with the administration of the affairs of her South African
possessions. It is confidently maintained that many of Sir Bartle
Frere’s measures are destined to bear rich fruit in the future.
The public buildings that are most worthy of mention are the Town Hall,
the churches, the Government House, the Sailors’ Home, the Railway
Station, and especially the Museum, with Sir George Grey’s Monument,
and the adjacent Botanical Gardens; but perhaps the structure that may
most attract attention is the stone castle commanding the town, where
the Commander-in-chief resides, and which has now been appointed as the
temporary abode of the captive Zulu king, Cetewayo.
Whether seen from the sea, or viewed from inland, the environs of
Cape Town are equally charming in their aspect. Approached from the
shore, the numerous white specks along the foot of the Lion’s Head
gradually resolve themselves into villas standing in the midst of
luxuriant gardens, sometimes situated on the grassy slopes, and
sometimes picturesquely placed upon the summit of a steep bare rock.
The well-to-do residents, especially the merchants, are conveyed from
this suburb into the town by a horse-tramway, which is in constant use
from six in the morning until ten at night. The part lying nearest to
the town is called Green Point, the more remote end being known as Sea
Point. Between the two are the burial-grounds, the one allotted to
Europeans being by no means dissimilar, to the quiet cypress gardens
in Madeira. The native cemeteries lie a little higher up the hill, and
afford an interesting study in ethnography. That of the Mohammedan
Malays cannot fail to claim especial attention--the graves marked by
dark slate tablets, distinguished by inscriptions, and adorned with
perpetual relays of bright paper-flowers.
Charming as is the scene at the foot of the Lion’s Head, there
is another, still more lovely, on the lower slopes of the Devil’s
Mountain. Here, for miles, village after village, garden after garden,
make one continuous chain, the various farmsteads being separated
and overshadowed by tracts of oaks or pines. Every hundred steps an
enchanting picture is opened to the eye, especially in places where the
mountain exhibits its own interesting geological formation, or forms
a background clothed with woods or blossoming heath. The suburb is
connected with the town by the railroad, which runs inland for about a
hundred miles.
On this railroad the third station has a peculiar interest as being
the one nearest to the Royal Observatory, which is built in some
pleasure-grounds near the Salt River. World-wide is the reputation of
the Observatory through its association with the labours of Sir John
Herschel, astronomical science being at present prosecuted under the
superintendence of Professor Gill.
Our two days’ sojourn at Cape Town sped quickly by, and the “Briton”
left Table Bay. Rounding the Cape of Good Hope, she proceeded towards
Algoa Bay, in order to land the majority of her passengers at Port
Elizabeth, the second largest town in the colony, and the most
important mercantile seaport in South Africa.
Along the precipitous coast the voyage is ever attended with
considerable danger, and many vessels have quite recently been lost
upon the hidden reefs with which the sea-bottom is covered.
Like the other bays upon the coast, Algoa Bay is wide and open, and
consequently much exposed to storms; indeed, with the exception of Lime
Bay, a side-arm of Simon’s Bay, there is not a single secure harbour
throughout the entire south coast of the Cape. This is a most serious
disadvantage to trade, export as well as import, not simply from the
loss of time involved in conveying goods backwards or forwards from
vessels anchored nearly half-a-mile from the shore, but on account of
the additional expense that is necessarily incurred. Large sums of
money, undoubtedly, would be required for the formation of harbours in
these open roadsteads, yet the outlay might be beneficial to the colony
in many ways.
Situated on a rocky declivity some 200 feet high, Port Elizabeth
extends over an area about two miles in length, and varying from
a quarter of a mile to a full mile in breadth. The population is
about 20,000. Any lack of natural beauty in the place has been amply
compensated by its having acquired a mercantile importance through
rising to be the trade metropolis for the whole interior country south
of the Zambesi; it has grown to be the harbour not only for the eastern
portion of Cape Colony, the Orange Free State, and the Diamond-fields,
but also partially for the Transvaal and beyond.
A small muddy river divides the town into two unequal sections, of
which the smaller, which lies to the south, is occupied principally
by Malay fishermen. At the end of the main thoroughfare, and at no
great distance from Baker River, bounded on the south side by the
finest Town Hall in South Africa, lies the market-place; in its centre
stands a a pyramid of granite, and as it opens immediately from the
pier, a visitor, who may have been struck with the monotonous aspect
of the town from off the coast, is agreeably surprised to find himself
surrounded by handsome edifices and by offices so luxurious that they
would be no disgrace to any European capital. Between the market-place
and the sea, as far as the mouth of the Baker River, stand immense
warehouses, in which are stored wool ready for export, and all such
imported stores as are awaiting conveyance to the interior.
My own first business upon landing was to select an hotel, but it was
a business that I could by no means set about with the nonchalance of
a well-to-do traveller. For after paying a duty of 1_l._ for my
breech-loader, and 10_s._ for my revolver, my stock of ready money
amounted to just half-a-sovereign; and even this surplus was due to the
accidental circumstance of the case of my gun not having been put on
board the “Briton.” However, I had my letters of introduction.
A German merchant, Hermann Michaelis, to whom I first betook myself,
directed me to Herr Adler, the Austrian Consul, and through the kind
exertions of this gentleman in my behalf, Port Elizabeth proved to me
a most enjoyable place of residence. He introduced me to the leading
gentry of the town, and in a very short time I had the gratification of
having several patients placed under my care. I had much leisure, which
I spent in making excursions around the neighbourhood, but I had hardly
been in Port Elizabeth a fortnight when I received an offer from one
of the resident merchants, inviting me to settle down as a physician,
with an income of about 600_l._ a year. The proposal was very
flattering, and very enticing; it opened the way to set me free from
all pecuniary difficulties, but for reasons which will hereafter be
alleged, I was unable to accept it.
I generally made my excursions in the morning, as soon as I had paid
my medical visits, returning late in the afternoon. Sometimes I went
along the shore to the south, by a long tongue of land partially
clothed with dense tropical brushwood, and partially composed of wide
tracts of sand, on the extremity of which, seven miles from the town,
stands a lighthouse. Sometimes I chose the northern shore, and walked
as far as the mouth of the Zwartkop River. Sometimes, again, I spent
the day in exploring the valley of the Baker River, which I invariably
found full of interest. Furnished with plenty of appliances for
collecting, I always found it a delight to get away from the hotel, and
escaping from the warehouses, to gain the bridge over the river; but it
generally took the best part of half an hour before I could make my way
through the bustle of the wool depôt, which monopolizes the 250 yards
of sand between the buildings and the sea.
Towards the south, as far as the lighthouse, the coast is one
continuous ledge of rock, sloping in a terrace down to the water, and
incrusted in places with the work of various marine animals, especially
coral polypes. Sandy tracts of greater or less extent are found along
the shore itself, but the sand does not extend far out to sea in the
way that it does on the north of the town, towards the mouth of the
Zwartkop.
All the curiosities that I could fish up at low tide from the coral
grottoes, and all the remarkable scraps of coral and sea-weed that were
cast up by the south-easterly storms, I carried home most carefully;
and after my return from the interior, I found opportunity to continue
my collections over a still larger area, and met with a still larger
success.
Accompanied by four or five hired negroes, and by my little black
waiting-maid Bella, I worked for hours together on the shore, and
brought back rare and precious booty to the town.
The capture of the nautilus afforded us great amusement. We used to
poke about the pools in the rocks with an iron-wire hook, and if the
cephalopod happened to be there it would relinquish its hold upon the
rock to which it had been clinging, and make a wild clutch upon the
hook, thus enabling us to drag it out; of course, it would instantly
fall off again; if it chanced to tumble upon a dry place, it would
contract its tentacles and straightway make off to the sea; but if
it lighted on the loose shingle we were generally able, by the help
of some good-sized stones, to pick it up and make it a prisoner. The
bodies of the largest of these mollusks are about five inches in
length, but their expanded tentacles often reach to a measure of two
feet. They are much sought after and relished by the Malays, who call
them cat-fish.
Occasionally we saw young men and women with hammers collecting
oysters, cockles, and limpets, to be sold in the town; and every here
and there were groups of white boys with little bags, not unlike
butterfly-nets, catching a sort of prawns, which some of the residents
esteem a great delicacy. Diver-birds and gulls abounded near the
shallows, the former rising so sluggishly upon the wing, that several
of them allowed themselves to be captured by my dog Spot.
The coast, as I have already mentioned, here forms a wide tongue
of land, half of which is a bare bank, whilst, with the exception
of the extreme point, the other part, near the town and towards the
lighthouse, is clothed with luxuriant vegetation. At least a thousand
different varieties of plants are to be found in the district, and
this is all the more surprising because they have their roots in soil
which is mere sand. Fig-marigolds of various kinds are especially
prominent; here and there citron-coloured trusses of bloom, as large
as the palm of one’s hand, stand out in gleaming contrast to the dark
finger-like, triangular leaves; a few steps further, and at the foot of
a thick shrubbery, appear a second and a third variety, the one with
orange-tinted blossoms, the other with red; and while we are stopping
to admire these, just a little to the right, below a thicket of rushes,
our eye is caught by yet another sort, dark-leaved and with flowers
of bright crimson. Another moment, and before we have decided which
to gather first, something slippery beneath our feet makes us look
down, and we become aware that even another variety, this time having
blossoms of pure white, is lurking almost hidden in the grass. In the
pursuit of this diversified and attractive flora, the multiplicity of
dwarf shrubs, of rushes, and of euphorbias, stands only too good a
chance of being completely overlooked.
[Illustration: EUPHORBIA TREES.]
For miles this sandy substratum forms shallow, grassy valleys from 10
to 20 feet deep, and varying from 100 to 900 yards in length, running
parallel to each other, and alternating with wooded eminences rising 30
to 50 feet above the sea level.
Westwards from the lighthouse the shore is especially rich in
vegetation. Its character is that of a rocky cliff broken by
innumerable trickling streams. Several farm-houses are built upon
the upper level. The swampy places are overgrown by many sorts of
moisture-loving plants, the open pools being adorned with graceful
reeds, and not unfrequently with blossoms of brilliant hue. The slope
towards the sea is well-nigh covered by these marshes, whilst the low
flattened hills that intervene are carpetted with heaths of various
species, some so small as to be scarcely perceptible, others growing in
bushes and approaching four feet in height. Truly it is a spot where
a botanist may revel to his heart’s content. These heaths not only
exhibit an endless variety of form in their blossoms, but every tint
of colour is to be traced in their delicate petals. The larger sorts
are ordinarily white or grey; the smaller most frequently yellow or
ochre-coloured; but there are others of all shades, from the faintest
pink to the deepest purple.
The heaths that predominate in the southern districts of Cape Colony
are characteristic of the South African flora, though they are a type
of vegetation that does not extend far inland. The largest number of
species is to be found in the immediate neighbourhood of Cape Town and
of Port Elizabeth.
Besides the heaths, lilies (particularly the scarlet and crimson
sorts) are to be found in bloom at nearly all seasons of the year.
Gladioli, also, of the bright red kind, are not unfrequently to be met
with, vividly recalling the red flowering aloe which grows upon the
Zuurbergen. Mosses are to be found in abundance on the downs.
A stranger wandering through this paradise of flowers would be tempted
to imagine that, with the exception of a few insects and song-birds,
animal life was entirely wanting. Such, however, was far from being
the case. Lurking in the low, impenetrable bushes are tiny gazelles,
not two feet high, hares, jerboas, wild cats, genets, and many other
animals that only wait for the approach of nightfall to issue from
their hiding-places.
My excursions to the shore, along the tongue of land, were upon the
whole, highly successful. During my visit I collected a large variety
of fish, crabs, cephalopods, annelids, aphrodites, many genera of of
mollusks, corals, sponges, and sea-weeds, as well as several specimens
of the eggs of the dog-fish.
Nor did I confine myself to exploring the south shore. I wandered
occasionally in the opposite direction, towards the mouth of the
Zwartkop. There the shore for the most part consists of sand, which
extends far out to sea, making it a favourable stranding-place for any
vessel that has been torn from its anchorage during one of the frequent
storms. From the sea I procured many interesting mollusks. Dog-fish
abound near the mouth of the stream, while the river itself seems to
teem with many kinds of fish. The banks, more especially that on the
left, are rich in fossils of the chalk period, and in the alluvial
soil are remains of still extant shell-fish, as well as interesting
screw-shaped formations of gypsum. The coast is flatter here than it is
towards the south, and the large lagoons that stretch inland furnish
a fine field for the ornithologist’s enjoyment, as they abound in
plovers, sandpipers, and other birds. I observed, also, several species
of flowers that were new to me, particularly some aloes, marigolds, and
ranunculuses, and a fleshy kind of convolvulus, which, I think, has not
been seen elsewhere.
Generally I returned home by way of the saltpan, a small salt lake
about 500 yards long by 200 broad, which lies between the town and
the river, and is for part of the year full of water. Here I found
some more new flowers, besides some beetles and butterflies. The
saltpan lies in in a grassy plain, bounded on the west by the slope
on which the town is built. Both the plain and the rocky declivity
produce a variety of plants, but the majority of them are of quite a
dwarf growth; in August and September, the spring months, they abound
in lizards, spiders, and scorpions, and of these I secured a large
collection. On the slope alone I caught as many as thirty-four snakes.
Just at this season, when the winter is departing, the beetles and
reptiles begin to emerge from their holes; but, finding the nights and
mornings still cold, they are driven by their instinct to take refuge
under large stones. Here they will continue sometimes for a week or
more in a state of semi-vitality; and, captured in this condition, they
may easily be transferred to a bottle of spirits of wine without injury
to the specimens.
My inland excursions, which for the most part took the direction of
the valley of Baker River, had likewise their own special charm. In its
lower course the river-bed is bounded by steep and rocky walls, rising
in huge, towering blocks; but higher up there are tracts of pasturage,
where the tall grass is enlivened by a sprinkling of gay blossoms, that
indicate the close proximity of the sea. Scattered over the valley are
farms and homesteads, and in every spot where there is any moisture a
luxuriant growth of tropical shrubs, ferns, and creepers is sure to
reveal itself, and in especial abundance upon the ruins of deserted
dwellings.
In one of the recesses of the valley there is an establishment for
washing wool by steam. At a very short distance from this I found a
couple of vipers rolled up under a stone, in a hole that had probably
been made by some great spider. I seized one of them with a pair of
pincers, and transferred it with all speed to my flask, which already
contained a heterogeneous collection of insects and reptiles. I had
caught the male first, and succeeded in catching the female before
she had time to realize that her mate was gone. I kept them both in
my flask with its neck closed for a time, sufficiently long, as I
supposed, to stupefy them thoroughly, and went on my way. Finding other
specimens I opened my receptacle and deposited them there, but it did
not occur to me that there was any further need to keep the flask shut.
I had not gone far before I was conscious of a strange thrill passing
over my hand; a glance was sufficient to show me what had happened;
one of my captive vipers had made an escape, and was fastening itself
upon me; involuntarily I let the flask, contents and all, fall to the
ground. I was not disposed, however, to be baulked of my prize, and
immediately regaining my presence of mind, I managed once again to
secure the fugitive, and was careful this time to fasten it in its
imprisonment more effectually.
One day, Herr Michaelis invited me to accompany him and another friend
to the high table-land on a bee-hunt. It was an excursion that would
occupy about half a day, and I was most delighted to avail myself of
the offer. We started up the hill in a covered, two-wheeled vehicle,
and turned eastward across the plain that extends in a north-easterly
direction. The plateau was clothed with short grass, and studded with
thousands of reddish-brown ant-hills, chiefly conical in form and
measuring about three feet in diameter, and something under three feet
in height. Those that were still occupied had their surface smooth, the
deserted ones appearing rough and perforated. An ant-hill is always
forsaken when its queen dies, and our search was directed towards any
that we could find thus abandoned, in the hope of securing its supply
of honey. In the interior of Africa a honey-bird is used as a guide
to the wild bees’ nests; but in our case, we employed a half-naked
Fingo, wearing a red woollen cap, who ran by the side of our carriage,
and kept a sharp look-out. It was not long before a gesture from him
brought us to a standstill. He had made his discovery; he had seen
bees flying in and out of a hill, and now was our chance. We lost no
time in fastening up our conveyance, lighted a fire as rapidly as we
could, and in a very few minutes the bees were all suffocated in the
smoke. The ant-hill itself was next cleared away, and in the lower
cells were found several combs, lying parallel to each other, and
filled partly with fragrant honey, and partly with the young larvæ. I
could not resist making a sketch of the structure. The removal of the
earth brought to light two more snakes, which were added to my rapidly
increasing collection.
With these and similar excursions, four weeks at Port Elizabeth passed
pleasantly away. The time came when I must prepare to start for the
interior. Tempting as was the offer that had been made to me to remain
where I was, there were yet stronger inducements for me to proceed. Not
only had a merchant in Fauresmith, in the Orange Free State, held out
hopes of my securing a still more lucrative practice, but Fauresmith
itself was more than sixty miles further to the north, and thus of
immense advantage as a residence for one who, like myself, was eager to
obtain all possible information about the interior of the country.
Besides advancing me the expenses of my journey, Herr Hermann Michaelis
himself offered to accompany me to Fauresmith.
I need hardly say with how much regret I left Port Elizabeth, and all
the friends who, during my visit, had treated me with such courtesy and
consideration.